It was a girl named Ginny
by Tigerman
Summary: Have been having trouble finding a good Harry/Ginny lately? That's why you should read this one. No magical love, or soul-mate thingy. This is a 'what if Ginny never had a crush, but everyone else said she did'
1. Chapter 1

Author's note. The Ginny/Harry ship was the most popular one in fanfictions, eight years ago. No one even thought of Harry/Luna and Harry/Hermione was a novelty that had yet to make its proof. Nowadays, there are even Ginny haters, and I think too many sappy fanfictions are to blame, along with some bad romance from the canon. Here is my version of Ginny/Harry, mostly from Ginny's POV, but no fan girl or obsessive behaviour, this time. It will focus more on the Harry/Voldemort death match near the end.

A/N2: Many Ginny lovers PM'd me with a few valid points about my previous, frustrating summary. Many people will find this story by filtering to this particular shipping after all. I'll admit it was a bit provocative, so I downplayed it a bit. I'm still standing to my opinion that in the last few years, in the overall fanfics I've read, Ginny is bashed for no other reason that people got tired to see her with Harry. BTW I'm _french_ canadian and Betas are hard to find.

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**Disclaimer: I do not own the HP Universe. At the size it is now, none can pretend to anyhow...**

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Ginny was stomping on her bed with her two small feet.

"Ginny, dear, I told you already not to do that!" scold her mother.

"But mom! The bed is too hard when I don't! Can't you do the pillow-wing charm on it again?"

"It's 'cushioning charm', and I guess that if you promise to lie down and stay still for tonight's story, I'll cast it."

"Yay! Really?" she said, going to stand on the end of the bed, arm extended.

Molly smiled and got her wand ready. The six year old girl let herself fall backward on her bed, her mother casting the spell at the last second. The ginger girl giggled as she bounced on her bed. Her mother covered her with a thick blanket and tightened it all around her, making Ginny looking like a butterfly's cocoon. The little girl barely managed to free her arms and looked up at her mother expectantly.

"Tonight's story..." Molly started softly, "is a story about a young, courageous boy that, as a little baby, saved the world."

"You're going to tell me, mommy? Really? The story about Harry Potter?"

"Yes," her mother answered, smiling. "It can be scary, but you're a big enough girl to know. For a decades, before you were born, an evil man, whose name isn't pronounced even to this day, made the magical world a very dark place. He possessed the mind of people and killed others, and you couldn't even trust your own neighbors, by fear that they might be one of Who-must-not-be-named's men: the Death Eaters."

Ginny was hugging her blanket tight and raised it to her mouth, biting a bit in it. Her eyes were round and she was clearly scared.

"But courageous men and woman opposed him. Even Who-must-not-be-named feared someone: Professor Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the safest place in Britain."

"Isn't it where I'm going to school someday, mommy?" asked the little Ginny, unable to stay too quiet for long.

"Yes, dear, and you will meet him too! But as it happened, You-know-who did his terror campaign in a way to always avoid directly fighting Dumbledore. But on a Halloween night, six years ago, he met his doom."

"Only six years ago? But...I'm six!"

"Yes, my little sugar quill, it hasn't been that long since we've been saved. Now stop interrupting!"

Ginny quiet down, proof that the story held all her attention.

"The Potter family was made of James Potter, Lily Potter and their one year old son, Harry. They went into hiding after hearing that the Dark Lord targeted them. The Headmaster put a strong charm on their house, a very old locating charm that hid them from everyone, even if they were right under their noses. They only had to stay in the house. The sole way of finding the house would be for the Potters, or the designated Secret Keeper, to give the location. Alas, their chosen Secret Keeper and best friend, Sirius Black, was a Death Eater."

Ginny was an easy crowd as she gasped right at that moment, but didn't dare to say a word.

"The Dark Lord came to their house, on that horrible Halloween night, Sirius Black having betrayed them. He blew the front door inward and battled James Potter. Halas, he was killed. The house was half-destroyed when the Aurors came to the scene. Then, he must have gone upstairs and killed Lily Potter, who was found sprawled over the crib of her child."

At that moment, even Molly's lips trembled, as she could not imagine a more noble, and sad way for a mother to die than to protect her child.

"But here happened a miracle! As the Dark Lord turned his wand against the small Harry Potter, letting out the terrible killing curse, it rebounded back on Him! It destroyed Him completely, not even leaving a body! Only a wand and a dust pile were left."

"Was the baby hurt?" asked Ginny, still worried.

"Hagrid, the Ground Keeper of Hogwarts, was the first to arrive on the scene. He found Harry crying in a house on fire. He took him and brought him to Professor Dumbledore. It is said he was placed with muggles relatives, who must be, no doubt, all over their miracle boy. You see, He-who-must-not-be-named was pure evil. That night, He found something even He could not destroy. This is how the victim he took control of regained their senses, and the Magical World was saved."

"How so we know if Harry Potter is safe today, mom? You never said if he was hurt, or burned by the fire! Where is he now? When will he go to Hogwarts? What does he look like?"

Molly smiled and was about to answer her questions with the promise she'd sleep right after, but it was not to be. One of Ginny's twin brothers walked past the doorstep.

"Sound like a crush to me, brother."

The second twin followed, a hand rubbing his chin.

"A crush? You are mistaken, brother mine. This is true love, for sure."

"It's not!" yelled Ginny hotly, now standing in her bed, her hands in small fists at her side.

"Who's got a crush on who?" asked a young boy from a room further up the stairs.

"Our Ginnykins found her knight in shiny armor in the person of Harry Potter, no less!" explained the first twin helpfully.

"Is not!" said Ginny, louder.

"Ginny, sweetie, get back down..." tried Molly.

"Harry and Ginny in a tree kissinggggggggg..." intoned the voice upstairs.

Ginny yelled in frustration and let herself down on the bed, crying. Molly rubbed her temple. It would be one of _those_ evening...

* * *

"What is it, Ginny? Why are you hiding like this?" asked Molly to her ten years old daughter, who was gripping her robe tightly.

"It's him, Mom, it's Harry Potter right there!" she said, her voice lost in the fabric of the Weasley Matriarch's dress.

Molly looked around and spotted the James Potter replica immediately. She knew something was wrong the moment she saw him.

"He's so small. He looks so lost. Why is he all alone?" she mumbled for herself. Only her daughter, so close to her, heard her.

Inspiration struck, and she never was the shy one not to act on it.

"Hurry up, everyone! The gate nine and three quarter is right over here! I swear, it's the same every year! The place is always so crowded with muggles..." she said in a strong voice, passing right under the little Potter's nose. She had her back to him but her ploy took only seconds to work.

"Errrr...Excuse me, madam..."

Molly feigned surprise, turning back, and offered a wide, reassuring smile to the young boy.

"I wonder," started the black haired boy shyly, "...if you could...I mean I'm a bit lost and..."

"You must be a first year at Hogwarts! Don't worry, dear, it's alright. My young Ronald here is new this year too!" she said, the mentioned ball of freckled waving.

Ginny looked at Harry all the time from behind her mother. Somehow, she was persuaded that if Harry had someone to be standing behind of, he would be right now. But that was it: he was alone. How could this be? Where were the muggles that raised him? They wouldn't leave him alone in the Underground, now, would they?

Once her brothers were inside the Express, Ginny strolled around, never leaving her mother's sight. Most of the windows were open and she could hear part of conversations inside.

"...house do you think I'll..."

"...seen my frog? Its name is..."

"...sister got a crush on you since, like, forever!"

Ginny froze in her tracks. It was her brother's voice! He wouldn't dare...

"Really? She just seemed a bit shy to me," answered the voice she knew was owned by the Boy-who-lived. She wanted to die and bury herself! She'd do so right after doing the same to this filthy, big-mouthed, good-for-nothing brother!

Nonetheless, she could not help but to run after the train, waving goodbyes. She would be alone with her mother, this time. It would be a very long year...

* * *

Ginny was so glad at first! She was finally going at Hogwarts! It felt as if her life started at her eleventh year, or so she thought. Luna was sorted in Ravenclaw, and Ron already spread the word: she had a crush on Harry Potter. There were not so many girls to talk to in her year and the boys kept to themselves. She wanted to talk to Hermione but she was constantly with Harry!

Ginny was shy around him, but not because of a crush: she knew he thought she had one! Her only comfort was in this odd, black book. She didn't remember buying it, and she wondered if it was not a product from Zonko her twin brothers slipped her. There was no jokes yet, he simply 'listened' to her, and answered her.

-Hi, Tom. I'm all alone again. My brother don't want to hang out, as usual, and I finished all my homework.-

-Tell me about Harry, then! What did he do today?-

-I didn't see him much. We have this teacher, totally useless, and seeing how he teaches us, I'm sure I could learn better from a spell dictionary. Sure, he has gorgeous blond hair but I could bet my wand that it is bleached, like his teeth! Seriously! I heard Harry say in the common room he freed a whole box of pixies on them! He could have hurt people!-

-I wouldn't worry about him staying more than a year- wrote Tom the journal.

-I hope so. I wish I could study the first year's spells with Ron, Hermione and Harry. Well, not so much with Ron...-

-You love him, don't you? Harry Potter.- wrote the book.

Ginny sat right up in her bed.

'Not another one! I swear! I should have guessed it came from Fred and George.'

Ginny went to see Hermione, who was with Ron and Harry, as usual. Ron frowned when he saw her walk toward them but quickly lost interest when his sister told Hermione she needed help with a book. Ginny dragged her away, not wanting the details of her problem to become public. The rumours were bad enough!

"You're saying that this diary answers you? It teased you about having a crush on Harry?" asked Hermione, truly curious.

"Yes! It's ridiculous, I know! I don't have a crush! I'm sure it's a trick from the twins."

Hermione opened the blank book. She took a quill and started writing.

-Hello.-

-Hello, who is this?-

-I'm Hermione Granger, Ginny's friend.-

-Ha, yes! Ginny often speaks of you! She said you're the smartest witch she ever met!-

Hermione blushed a bit but shook her head.

-Thanks! Talking about smarts, I've got an essay in Transfiguration to do, and I wondered if you could help me.-

After writing a few more sentences, Hermione closed the book.

"This is not from the twins," she said darkly.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Would your brothers actually bother including valid knowledge in a book that has nothing to do with pranks?"

Ginny bit her lips.

"What do we do?"

* * *

Professor Minerva McGonagall was not surprised to see Hermione Granger come toward her with a book in hand. What surprised her was to see young Ginny Weasley with her and, more surprising even, out of the periods allocated by the professor for extra tutoring.

"Miss Granger, is there a problem?" she asked seriously, seeing the long face of her students.

"We don't know yet, professor. We're here to find out. Ginny received this book anonymously at the start of the year. It answers to anything you write in it. At first, we thought of a prank but somehow, it seems too...elaborate," Hermione said, uncomfortable.

"All right. I'll investigate this and let you know as soon as I learn something," said Minerva McGonagall, smiling.

She started frowning as soon as the girls left her office. The Granger girl had a surprisingly good common sense for someone her age and if her instincts told her something was off, it probably was. A self-thinking diary? This would be some serious piece of magic, and not one a student could come up with, even less part with it freely, and anonymously. She opened it on her desk and started writing.

-Who are you?-

-Hello miss! You feel different than my previous owner. My name is Tom Riddle, pleased to meet you. What's your name?-

Minerva all but jumped away from the book.

"Oh dear!"

She conjured chains and locks and closed the book before wrapping it tightly. Seeing her face in the hallway, none dared to ask why she levitated a book wrapped in chains all the way to the Headmaster's office.

* * *

Ginny never felt so alone than in her first year. She threw herself in her books, trying to forget that she lost her only 'friend', another book that was irremediably charmed to hurt her in the long run, from what professor McGonagall told her.

Soon, she stumbled on something that became an obsession: Lockhart's books. At one place, the dates just didn't fit. Two of his exploits overlapped on two days' length. Seeing as he was supposed to be in France for one and Transylvania for the other, it was quite strange.

She read the book from the first to the last and made a separate chart of every recorded date for each of them. Then, she made them overlap. It made no sense! Several occurrences happened at the same times! Or crossed, or...

She knew Harry and Ron called him a fraud, and that Hermione tried her best to defend the teacher, telling them that no teacher could just outright lie to them. She decided to show her charts to the golden trio, the only one she felt she could go to. Who else could she turn to? Would any teacher accuse another one of being a fraud on the words of a first year?

"What is it now, Ginny?" sighed Ron dramatically. "I'm starting to think you're looking for excuses to..."

"Lockheart's a fraud," she interrupted him firmly.

Ron shrugged.

"Nothing new there," he said, making Harry chuckle.

"Ginny," started Hermione, "You can't just accuse him without any proof!"

"What makes you think I don't?" she answered, a victorious smile on as she spread her charts on the low table, over their books.

"Oy! Don't spread your mess over _our_ table!"

"Wait, Ron! This...you did all of this?" asked Hermione, understanding at once what was before her.

"Yes, I did, and yes, I'm sure about the dates! I read all the books, noted all the dates..."

"Can we understand your crush changed target?" teased Ron at once.

Her angry retort died even before she formulated it in her mind.

"That's some amazing research, Ginny. I know I would never have the patience to read all of this ponce's books," said Harry, looking at the charts.

Ginny smiled proudly. Ron rolled her eyes.

"Don't encourage her!" sighed Ron again, always the drama queen.

"Are you telling me who _not_ to talk to? If I remember well, that's the first thing Malfoy did when we met before our sorting," said Harry, looking a bit angry now.

"Of course not! I just thought you would get annoyed..." sputtered Ron.

"Getting there..." mumbled Harry loud enough to be heard.

Ron wisely kept his mouth shut this time and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, you two...but...if Ginny is right, that mean our Defense teacher's curriculum is flawed. He might not have done everything he claims to..."

"If any at all..." added Ginny.

"Yes...that is a possibility, seeing the number of times the date crosses. What are those yellow buffering zones between each of them? They overlap over the dates of his next...adventures even more than the rest," inquired Hermione.

"It's a rough estimation of the time he would take to go from feat to feat. He would have to buy expensive international portkeys, already knowing where he was needed next with his visa ready," explained Ginny, more than a little proud to have thought of that.

It sent them looking at the whole picture in silence. The work was impressive, very precise and definitely uncomfortable to look at.

"We...we'll have to confront him or something, won't we?" asked Ron. "Everybody who don't worship him says he's a fraud but... actually proving it might cause problems."

"We have to give him a chance to explain himself," pleaded Hermione pitifully. "He might be using a time-turner, or something..."

Looking at the faces the other made, her head dropped.

"I know, it's very unlikely."

Still, they went, the four of them, talk to their DADA teacher in order to give him a chance. They found him signing pictures of himself.

"Ha! Young admirers! You finally organized yourself in a proper fanclub? I have no problem to make an appearance at one of your assembly and signing autographs, but don't forget that I'm your teacher and, as such, I'm very busy," he said, getting up to welcome them.

He found them lacking the enthusiasm they should be exalting as they looked at each other. The younger witch went to his desk and spread charts on it.

"What is this? Oh! It's a great summary of my adventures! Are you planning on a fan-based biography? I'll check with my publicist to see if it's possible. What are all those numbers?"

"They are dates," answered Ginny with finality, Ron, Hermione and Harry flanking her.

"Dates! How conv...enient...and very thorough."

"Yes," said Ron, stepping in front of Ginny. "Now we know that it is quite impossible for you to have done all of this, if any of it. What do you have to say for yourself?"

That's Ron for you: all aggressive on a delicate situation.

Gilderoy Lockheart raised his head sharply toward the ginger boy.

"You are right, of course! I didn't do all of this, but do you really think you are the first to find out? I may be bogus on those flashy battle spells, but there is one I'm truly efficient at: Obliviate!"

As he wiped his wand from his sleeve, Ron barely had the time to half-draw his own. The spell caught the raised wand and snapped the already weakened stick in uneven halves. Gilderoy turned toward Ginny and pointed his wand straight between her eyes.

He should have known, after watching Harry and Hermione in class, that he should have disabled those two first. He was caught straight by both a jelly-lex jinx and a tripping hex. The floor rushed toward him and the small bookcase he tried to gain support on ended falling down on him. Ginny ran toward the teacher and took his wand from his unresisting hand that stuck out of a book pile. Probably he regretted having written so much of them now, and so thick to boot.

* * *

Ginny walked in the Express, a bit depressive. The year seemed to drag on forever after the 'Lockheart accident'. Ron warned her again about bothering Harry and told her to make friend of her own, in her own year. What if she didn't want to?

She liked to spend time with Luna, but in limited quantity. Her sanity required a break now and then. She suddenly huffed and stomped toward the compartment she knew Harry shared with Ron and Hermione. She opened the door and started talking at once.

"Draco Malfoy is tormenting Collins Crivey again near the loo! Nobody want to do anything about it, even after Collin yelled he would share a box of Chocolate frog with anyone who would help!"

Ron pushed passed her and Hermione followed him shortly to be sure he didn't get himself in too much troubles.

As Harry got up, sighing, she pushed him back down on his bench, closed the door and locked it. Harry simply looked at her, confused.

"I lied," she simply said, nodding toward the door Ron and Hermione just took. "I didn't want Ron to interrupt after I said two words, and Hermione following him is an unexpected bonus."

"Oh. Well... if you wanted to talk to me, why didn't you just do it before?" asked Harry, wary and still confused.

"Because Ron forbade me to talk to you so as not to 'annoy you," she said, quoting the words with her fingers.

"He did what?" said Harry, getting angry.

"He did, and even before the year started. Now, I would like to make a few things clear. One: I don't have a crush on you."

Harry's anger was replaces with embarrassment.

"Oh... o-kay, hum..."

"My brothers started it, all of them. The twins are the ones who sent you this monstrosity on Valentine's day."

"Really? Now that you mention it, that's pretty much their style..."

"I was wary of talking to you too since I knew you thought I had a crush on you. Ron always hinting at it didn't help either."

"I'm sorry about that. It must have been a frustrating year."

"You have no idea! I can't seem to make any friends with people my own year. Hermione alone seems to have smart opinions and as thick as he is, Ronald is still my brother!"

"I don't mind you hanging with us," shrugged Harry. "We see each other plenty when I visit the burrow anyway."

Ginny sighed, closed her eyes and let her back hit her seat.

"Good. I'm glad that's settled! I'm tired of getting beet-red each time I see you, trying to figure what was the last dung Ron fed you about me."

Harry smirked and could barely contain his chuckles. The door gave a jerk and a surprised exclamation was heard on the other side.

"That must be 'brother mine' as Fred and George would say. I'd better go," said Ginny, getting up.

It was Harry's turn to push her down on her seat, surprising her.

"I'll get the door," he simply said, smiling. He unlocked and opened it to find a surprised Ron and Hermione looking at him.

"Why was it locked?" asked Ron. "And what are you still doing here?" he asked Ginny accusingly. "Crivey never said he would give any chocolate after we rescued him from Malfoy, by the way! Why did you made that up?"

Ginny and Harry looked at each other before chuckling.

"I guess that betting Draco is bullying someone in his free time isn't so far-fetched," Harry managed, regaining control on himself.

"What?" asked Ron, now totally lost. "No matter. Nothing to stop you leaving, Ginny."

"Nothing is forcing her to go, Ronald," replied Harry coldly.

Now that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"What? But she's...she'd...she'll..."

"She isn't, she didn't and no, she won't," countered Harry to his eloquent friend. "It has been a year of misunderstanding. Now, you should realize that we're going to spend another five years together, and she's your sister. Would you care to give me one good reason we should keep on avoiding her? Especially after she was the first girl at Hogwarts to overcome Lockhart's self-inflated ego and charms?"

Ron slowly closed the door and sighed. He sat down heavily on the couch next to Hermione since Ginny was beside Harry.

"Just...just this once I wanted a friend that isn't an acquaintance of one of my brother's and..."

Ron stopped his explanation there, looking down. His feelings were raw, and opened to everyone there. It was extremely awkward and uncomfortable.

"Now, really! Harry is exactly the friend you just described and this time your brothers are friends with him because he is _your_ acquaintance, as you put it! Now, Ginny here wants, like you, to be friends with Harry on her own! Nothing's wrong with that! Now if you want to feed this selfish need of exclusivity, just think you were his first friend ever at Hogwarts, and still his best male friend, okay? Seriously!"

That's pure Hermione. Dissect raw feeling like a dead frog and explain how the food ends up shit by pulling on the intestine. One thing was sure: after that kind of outburst, no one wants to talk about it, ever. Not within her earshot anyway.

"Any clue on the next Defense teacher?" asked Ginny, looking a bit annoyed. "I heard that he was useless last year too, on top of being evil. Now this year was a fraud. Where do they take them anyway? The looney bin?"

"I've got no idea," Harry answered simply, glad for the diversion.

As usual, Hermione took the question seriously and wouldn't rest without an answer.

"Very good point, Ginny," agreed Hermione. Don't they have, like, substitutes? A teacher list? They can't expect replacement to come up with a class schedule for seven years worth of students, between the time they asked them, almost at school break, and the start of the term!"

"They don't have much of a choice, I guess," shrugged Ron. "Anyway, that post is cursed. I asked my brothers and no, I'm not talking of Fred and George. Bill and Charlie said it was the same back in their years: one different teacher every year."

"Really?" asked Harry, puzzled. "How come?"

"There was always a different reason, and a dark one, most of the time. That's why they say it's cursed."

"Now, Ronald, that is ridiculous," stated Hermione matter-of-factually.

"Why so, Hermione? Don't you believe in magic?" asked Ginny, raising an eyebrow.

"I know of someone who would just love to do something like that. Someone dark, evil and twisted. An excuse of a living being, if he's even that, who lost his humanity decades ago," said Harry darkly.

"You really think that Snape would go that far to get the job?" asked Ron seriously.

Silence, then the three other occupants of the compartment burst in laughter.

* * *

**Chapter one done. I accidentally erased the second half of the whole fic. I feel depressed.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I am to Harry Potter what decency is to Southpark. Bad example, Southpark didn't even _heard_ of decency... ;)**

* * *

Harry dropped on the room's bed, at the Leaky Cauldron. Now that he was done running away, he could sit down and let the anger get back full force.

"How dare she, she...excuse of a bitch herder!"

Harry growled, thinking of his aunt Marge. How dare she say that of her mother! He might regret the consequences, but the only thing he regretted more was to have not hurt her enough!

A knock on his door interrupted his musing. He went to answer and a tweed-clothed man walked in the room.

"I'm glad you made it here safely, Harry! You don't mind if I call you Harry, do you?" asked the man, visibly expecting Harry to recognize him. His clueless look must have gave him away, though.

"But where are my manners! I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magical Britain. I am so glad to finally meet you!"

Despite the man's obvious good disposition toward him, Harry felt a stone drop in his stomach. He was already found out!

"Pleased...to meet you, sir," he answered, putting a bit of his own in the vigorous handshake the Minister gave.

"Good! Now I want to say first and foremost how dangerous leaving your home was! What's this... blood? You're bleeding, Harry!"

Harry looked at his scratched hand and back at the Minister.

"I'm sorry! I hope I didn't dirty your hand!"

"Never mind that, what happened?" the Minister asked, genuine concern on his face and... was that fear?

"A dog startled me before I got on the Knight Bus and I scratched my hand. Nothing to worry about," explained Harry.

"Oh! Good! I'll get a med-witch to come by and check on that. You wouldn't want it to get infected or leave a scar, would you?" he winked. "Now, about tonight's matter..."

Harry didn't know what overcame him but he felt he had to explain himself. Such an important man going out of his way to help him, especially when he gave him nothing but trouble...The man was probably at home with his family when he had to take care of a 'Boy-who-lived' problem.

"I'm so sorry! It's just...she was the worst! I can handle them talking as if I wasn't there or hit me with a stick when they notice me. I can handle them calling me a freak, a punk, a gook-for-nothing freeloader but comparing my mum, who gave her life for me, to some kind of animal... to a ... a dysfunctional bitch none the less...I just... I couldn't let it pass."

Fudge was not an easy man to reach. Politics made one's emotions as slick as melting butter: it slid over you with a greasy feeling. Harry's outburst made his vacuum-isolated heart beat once more. It was just so horrible and cruel. He didn't know where to start. For once, he was at loss for words.

"If I could just avoid having my wand snapped and...not leaving Hogwarts for good, maybe...just do some prison time and then..."

"Harry! Harry, Harry...calm down. You are not going anywhere. I wasn't going to punish you at all. The report the Aurors left me with a bad opinion about your relatives but I thought it was merely a reaction due to tonight's events. After what you just told me, there is no way we would even make a file about it, except maybe in their name," he finished, his voice clearly getting harsher.

"You won't...confiscate my wand? But...last year...when the house elf..."

"Last year was last year, Harry. Circumstances were different. It was detected that a pastry was levitated in a room full of muggles, some of them not being related to you, before said pastry was dropped on one of the muggle's head. It is in our policy to snuff out the first year pranksters by scarring their wits out and showing them that we can trace their acts. As if we would seriously detain a twelve years old in prison...Only they can believe that!"

The Minister chuckled with some mirth, shaking his head. Harry felt his cheeks redden. He really thought they would do it! Even now...

"We'll see what we can do with your...situation, Harry. I'll have a talk with Dumbledore."

The Minister's political side took over. If he could score a few good points with the boy, he would raise his own political image and get a perfect spot to question some of Albus' decision.

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, clearly relieved.

"Nonsense! Call me Cornelius. After tonight's event, I'd like to think we'll become friends!" he said, smiling.

"Yes sir...Cornelius."

"Now is there anything else I can help you with, Harry?" asked Fudge, already walking toward the door.

"I don't think so, unless you know who's going to be our next Defense teacher! I'm really curious about that!"

"I'm afraid I do not! Such matters are handled by Hogwarts Board of Governors," said the Minister bitterly.

"Really? Such a waste! Isn't the DADA course a must to become Auror? They shouldn't leave that to a new teacher every year. You could make the course more regular if the program was Ministry established for the Auror need, and even make freshly graduated Aurors give the course as part of their training, with experienced ones as guests, sometimes. At least, we would be sure to have someone that has some credibility, compared to the fraud that was Lockhart," Harry said, the idea sprouting out of him as he said it.

Cornelius froze in the door frame, his mouth open.

"That...that is actually a very good idea, Harry! I will see for this possibility to be considered by the Board. Decidedly, I will have a lot of things to discuss with your Headmaster..."

The Minister left, leaving a much calmer Harry Potter behind. The later decided he had enough emotions for the day and went to bed.

* * *

The rest of the year went by smoothly, without any other special interferences. That is, of course, if you don't call Harry finding out he have a convicted godfather, that Ron's rat is an escaped Death Eater on the loose and that the best DADA teacher they had is a werewolf. Pretty eventless. Why even mention the dementors, Harry's prowess with a Patronus or Hermione using a time-turner to assist to all the courses available? That's a Harry-normal year.

Well, Harry and Ginny became good friends and Ron eventually got over it. That's a noticeable point.

* * *

The Quidditch Cup right after Harry's third year was a magical event, so to speak. The game, the brooms, the Bulgarians, the Irish and the Death Eaters, all on the same field! Of course, the Death Eaters were more the After-game show. They knew how to crash a party something fierce as everyone fled when they saw them.

Harry lost his wand, only to have it found on the body of a stupefied elf that was accused of casting the Dark Mark in the sky.

School wasn't even begun that Harry was already tired of the mystery and tragedy. Hopefully, the rest of the year would be a bit calmer.

As if...

* * *

Ginny ate her breakfast with Luna. She was not in the mood to endure Ron and Hermione bickering that morning. The stomach ache of her monthly feminine condition decided to start that very morning. For the short time it has been happening to her, she hoped that her cycle would always stay like that. One day of heavy pain and irritability with only a couple more to watch her...flow, afterward. Some girls complained about three days, even going as a whole week full of bellyaches!

The other bother that came with her condition was that she became acutely aware of the boys around her. Every girls entertains the romantic side of a princess-saved-by-the-prince relationship at the tender age of five. Now, she found herself a bit more interested in what followed the first chaste kiss the prince use to wake the princess. Why waste time: she's already in the bed!

The next matter was that such thoughts plagued her during the Quidditch Cup, while sharing a tent with her three brothers, Hermione and...Harry.

After all the efforts she made to befriend him, explaining she had no crush on him, after giving up a year of allowance to follow them to the Quidditch event, that was her reward? The very acute, very conscious desire to just kiss him while grabbing a handful of his bum in public?

Okay, those were not good thoughts to have at this day of the month. Her body played enough tricks on her as it was without burning her seat.

"You seem particularly distracted this morning, Ginny," said Luna airily. "It's as if you're trying hard to avoid thinking about something while only doing so."

"It's exactly that. Have you got something to help me?" asked the redhead, half-angry, half-pleading.

"You know how some people says that not thinking of something is as hard as not thinking of a pink elephant?" asked the blonde.

"Yeah," answered Ginny warily, the picture of the offending-colored pachyderm in her head.

"Well, I find it easier to do it with a Crumpled-horned Snorkack," she said with finality.

"I don't know what a Crumpled-horned Snorkack is supposed to look like," deadpanned Ginny.

"Well, there you go, champ!" quipped back Luna, resuming her Quibbler reading after some origami work on it.

Ginny froze, tried _not_ to think of the mythical beast and found her mind feeding her a blank spot. A blissful smile appeared on her lips.

"Thanks, Luna."

"My pleasure."

* * *

Ginny sat with Harry in the common room. She was doing some crosswords while he was busy feeling miserable.

"He's just a prat," Ginny said without looking up.

Harry stayed silent.

"A jealous prat, might I add."

"How is that supposed to help," grumbled Harry.

"It won't unless you do something, anything. I don't know. Beat him up. Scream at him. It might have better results than sitting here and sulking."

"I'll just give him the time to realize how much of an idiot he's being."

"Don't hold your breath. It's been fourteen years and still counting, without him having a clue."

Harry snorted.

People threw dirty look as they passed by him. The whole castle was convinced he put his name in the Goblet of Fire, somehow.

"Any lead on the first task?" asked Ginny, writing down a four letters word that was 'an essential instrument to do magic'.

"D...I...C...nah, it won't fit with the others..." she mumbled, smiling at her own joke.

"I've got no clue whatsoever. We're flying blind. It's supposed to be a surprise!"

"No wonder so many people have died: it's not the tasks but the crappy organization that is deadly," muttered Ginny.

Despite the potential danger he found himself in, Harry smiled.

"So what now?" asked Ginny, putting her paper aside. "How are you going to prepare?"

Harry finally surprised her by waving it off.

"Hermione's on it right now, in the library. She's looking for a wide range of useful spells. You know, the kind of multi-purpose ones they seem to keep forgetting to teach us in class?"

"I'll recruit Luna and we'll help you practice in our free time. You might need test subjects."

"Thanks Gin, I owe you one," said Harry, grinning.

"And I'll hold you on that, mister Potter!" she said, an impish smile gracing her lips.

* * *

Harry sat alone, again, in the common room. It was late, but the real reason there was no one else around was that with one week until the task, people did their best to avoid to be in the same room as him. He didn't want to take a chance and pulled off his cloak before being near the painting of the fat lady when he came back from this particular night stroll. When he entered the common room, the few people still up left, saying how nice it was to be a Champion, not caring about such details as curfew.

Once alone, he sat down and put his head in his hands.

"Dragons...we have to face dragons..." he muttered.

Light footsteps were heard behind him and a weight made his sofa shift a bit.

"Knut for your late thoughts," yawned Ginny. She figured he was in the Common room when one of the girls her year spoke about 'bad company down there'. Ginny surprised no one when she threw on a night gown and walk out on them without a word.

"Dragons..." muttered Harry once more.

"Wow. Your thoughts are worth more than a mere knuts," smirked Ginny.

"That's the first task. Dragons. Four of them. One for each Champions. We have...to defeat a dragon. It took ten wizards to stun one, even for a moment. Hagrid showed me. I followed him in the Forest. Madam Maxim knows, and so does Karkaroff."

"That leave only Cedric in the dark..."stated Ginny.

"Yeah, you're right! I'll find a way to tell him tomorrow."

They remained silent a while under the light of the dancing, flickering flames of the fireplace.

"What am I gonna do?" almost whimpered Harry.

"We'll find a way, Harry. I promise," Ginny said, taking his hand. "I promise you."

* * *

Under the Champion's tent, Harry paced nervously.

"Accio broom... accio broom... accio..."

"Harry?"

Harry recognized Ginny's voice and desperately needed someone. He lifted the bottom of the tent and she crawled from under it.

"They left you alone? What kind of half-assed security is this?"

"Krum, Delacour and Cedric already went, as you might know. It's going to be my turn momentarily," he said, resuming his pacing before sitting down on the ground.

"Why me? Tell me! Why am I the one to face a dragon? I just want a normal life! No reporters after my blood, no dragons out to get me or other whatnot! I'm not special! I just...I just wanted to be left alone..."

Ginny looked at him, blinking. Ron might hate her for it later, but she couldn't help herself. She grabbed Harry's hands and helped him up.

"What did you said you wanted to be?" she asked softly.

"Just normal! A normal guy like any other..." he answered, only a bit hesitant.

"Close your eyes."

Harry's face flushed, but he complied none-the-less. The power-slap that landed on his left cheek left him staggering. It hurt as hell! It stung something fierce too! Harry looked at Ginny, now confused and hurt. She was shaking some life back in her right hand.

"Okay. Let's get this from the start. Repeat what you just said to me. What kind of life you wish for?"

"A normal life!" Harry almost yelled.

"Close your eyes," Ginny said again, looking at him straight in the eyes.

"What?"

"Trust me, close your eyes."

Harry did so warily, his eyelids jumping nervously, and rightfully so. The next power-slap, on his right cheek this time, sent a few tears flying. He barely strangled in a shout of pain.

Ginny took him by his collar and pulled him closer.

"You want to try that again?"

Harry shook his head.

"Good. You want an explanation?"

Harry nodded vigorously.

"You are NOT normal! You never were and never will be! Get it in that thick head of yours! No matter that you don't want your fame, fortune or power: you have it! Stop running away from it and use it! Enjoy it! Nobody's going to blame you for that! Don't feel guilty to have, or to be, what no one else have or is. They called your name twice already. Go and make _that dragon_ regret it landed on _you_ of all of the Champions."

She turned him around and pushed him not so gently toward the exit of the tent. Harry walked straight, in a daze, until he was in a small field of rocks. A deserted field. The logical part of his brain told him it should be filled with a dragon right now.

The beast jumped from beside a rock, gave him a stare like one to a worm on the sidewalk and threw its head back to unleash inferno.

Harry's eyes narrowed. Oh yeah? Want to play with fire? All intent to summon his broom left him. He wiped his wand as the dragon threw its head forward.

"Aguamanti!"

The jet of water stopped the one of fire a mere five feet in front of him. Water being more consistent than fire, and Harry not being limited by his breath, he ended up winning that exchange, but barely.

The beast shook its head, took another breath and spit more flames. Unfortunately for it, each time it opened its mouth toward Harry, the later was ready to send a new jet of water, more powerful each time, into its maw. The last one was as thick as Hagrid's leg and with enough pressure to send the head of the fire beast backward, and on the side.

"Do you like it, huh? Do you like being drenched enough to stop you from properly breathing?"

Harry's water assault was continuous now and didn't wait for the beast's offensive. The dragon was being pushed back and now tried to crawl away from the mad human. The abuse finally stopped.

"Accio Golden Egg," was all Harry said.

As the golden goal from the task soared toward him, the dragon looked at him once more, a bit panicked and more than a little angry. Harry raised his wand toward its ugly head. The dragon tensed and turned its head away, protecting it with a wing. Harry dropped his stance and walked away, whistling.

"What was that?" asked Hermione, stunned.

"That was Harry Potter, unleashed," answered Ginny, grinning as she walked over to them.

* * *

Harry strolled in the common room, lifting his egg over his head. Predictably, all Gryffindor came back on his side once he won. The Slytherins were reputed to be cunning but as an unwritten rule, you have to be edging toward your evil side. If not, you were an outcast.

Gryffindor were no better. You had to be brave, and courageous, but if you were not seen as strong...you ended up like Neville, overlooked.

The Common room was a continuous explosion of 'Harry', of 'Gryffindor' and of the twins' finest indoor fireworks. He hoped they were indoor ones. A banner showing Harry pushing the head of a dragon down a toilet seat was over the fireplace.

"What did I miss? Is it someone's birthday? What are we celebrating?" Harry asked, a shit-eating grin on his face.

People laughed and many patted him on the back. Harry was torn between enjoying it and yelling about hypocrites, back-stabbing lions. Why not do both? He ran to a seat and jumped on it, his feet on the armrests.

"So, you liked it? You want to see more? You want Gryffindor to win the Cup?"

A loud cheer answered him.

"Just asking, you know, since I didn't feel much love or cheering for the past month," he said, his eyes never quite giving up on a touch of mirth.

Still, the mood clearly sobered. People suddenly remembered how they treated him, shunned him and called him every possible names from liar to attention-seeker just hours ago.

"This victory wouldn't be a Gryffindor victory, normally. It would be a 'Harry Potter' victory alone, if it was not for the support I had, that is. A few people stuck by me, even though I was despised by the whole school, including my own house! The ones who stood by me are the truly courageous and brave!"

Heads were looking down in shame. One of the 'Potter Stink' badge, that failed to be modified, choose that moment to wail in the silence.

"I think I made my point now, but remember: you owe me one. I brought glory on our house alone, as there is no Quidditch and no House Cup this year. Hufflepuff, the House that reward loyalty by the way, is the one to be under the spotlight in this European tournament. Thanks to a freak accident, Murphy's laws on my head or some evil critter's work, our house have a chance to shine brighter than Europe's three greatest magical school's Champions. I didn't want to enter this tournament," Harry said, his head lowering a bit, his old demeanour surfacing. "But since I'm stuck in it, I'll make sure I'll win!" he finished, his eyes burning with renewed fire and his closed fist pumping in the air.

He received a new round of cheer, even if the face were a lot more serious by now. Hermione turned toward Ginny, suspicion etched all over her face.

"Alright: cough it up! What did you say to him back there in that tent?"

"Just a prep talk! Honestly, I just wanted him to be able to leave his tent on his own two feet and start the fight! I never thought it would affect him past seeing the dragon..."

Hermione sighed but her eyes began to worry as Ron made his way toward Harry, who was trying to distance himself from the crowd a bit.

"Now what?" she asked nobody in particular, pushing her way forward to play mediator once more.

She never saw Ginny's smirk. She meant everything she said to Harry back there and was glad of the changes. It was a lot better than the moping and brooding!

Sensing the need for privacy from the pair, the crowd let Harry walk away, Ron hot on his heel. Harry chose a corner and turned to face Ron, looking at him square in the eyes. He had a good view of his eyelids as Ron's head was looking at his feet conscientiously. Hermione looked from one to the other, unsure as to how this was going to play out. The scene unfolded itself as Ginny walked to them, effectively closing them from the rest of the room.

"Harry, I don't know who would be crazy enough to enter you in this thing..."

"I did it, who else?" interrupted Harry, shrugging his shoulders. Ron looked back up, now totally stunned.

"I did it," repeated Harry. "Do you think for one moment that I would share that with you? You should know, by now, that you are my sidekick, the one I let stick along just to look better when compared to. You make it so easy too. I need someone to make the messy work, now and then. But for you to expect me to share any of my secrets with you is priceless. I guess I can forgive you, this time, for thinking too highly of yourself and forgetting your position."

Ron was livid, and as rigid as a statue. He couldn't move, couldn't think, as if trapped in a nightmare.

"That's what you think how I really feel, Ron?" asked Harry, letting go of the superior tone. "You really think, deep down, that I see myself like that? That I consider you as something else as the very first friend I made _in my life_?" kept on Harry, his tone almost pleading Ron to contradict him. "Whatever reason you had to betray our friendship and our mutual trust like that, if you want me to forgive you, you'll have to earn it. I'm tired of dealing with your insecurity."

Hermione wanted to scold him for his harsh words, but she had a hard time getting the words out as she had to deal with Ron's temper too for the last month. Ginny hoped her brother just hit rock bottom now, and would finally rise up as a better friend.

* * *

"Did you know that most boys look for their mother in their girlfriend choice?"

Luna's last comment, out of nowhere, made Ginny spit in a spray her mouthful of orange juice she was drinking. As she coughed and fought to catch her breath, Luna smiled with satisfaction.

"It's been almost a full year since last time I was able to make you spit something like that. I was starting to believe I lost my touch!" she said happily.

"What was that about boys and their mothers?" asked Ginny, ignoring the table that looked to drain itself from the spilled liquid.

Luna put her nose back in a hard cover book she had.

"This psychologist here says that the trait a boy will look for are determined at a very young age, taking their mother as the perfect woman image," she resumed.

Ginny, looking at the name on the cover of the book, didn't know who this 'Freud' was, but he certainly was one creepy sicko!

"Is this for real?" asked Ginny, doubtful, knowing this may be only one more 'Luna things' to add to the list.

"I read that this dead man is one of the most known psychologist in the muggle world and his books are studied in Universities."

Ginny's features went down.

"They look for their mothers? I don't want to date Harry for any resemblance I might have with his mother! What did she look like anyway?"

Luna's humming answer sent chills down her back.

"She was a slim readhead with a few freckles. She had the most gorgeous green eyes Harry is famous for. She had sharp trait, but had 'happy cheeks' too. You know, those of people who use to smile a lot."

Ginny's head banged on the table, her attitude attracting stares.

"I feel like I'm going to lose mine if you say one more word, Luna," she moaned.

No matter if Harry wasn't raised by his mother, she wouldn't give him a chance to look at her that way! What to do, what to do...

* * *

"Hey there, Gin. How are you? You looked... errrrr... troubled, this morning, at breakfast," said Harry to Ginny as he sat near her in the Common room, putting the Golden egg in his lap. He drummed on it lightly with his finger, as if wondering what to do with it.

"I'm fine, Harry. Luna was just being her usual self and I could just not handle it. Did you know she started reading on muggle psychology?"

Worry spread to Ron and Hermione who were already seated nearby.

"Which one? Did you catch a name?" asked Hermione.

"Some whack job called Freud, I think," answered Ginny, leaning a bit toward Harry to look closely at the egg. Harry tipped it her way to allow her a better look.

Hermione groaned and buried her head in her hands.

"That bad?" asked Ron.

"You don't even want to know," answered the bookish Gryffindor.

Conversation eventually got to classes but quickly went back toward the egg. Harry still had quite some time to figure it out, but didn't know how much time he would need to prepare.

"Don't forget that you have a more pressing issue, Harry," told Hermione seriously.

Harry groaned.

"What is it?" asked Ginny innocently, knowing full well what this was about.

"He has to find a partner for the dance at the Yule Ball," Hermione said smugly. "And so does Ronald here."

"That's mean, Hermione! I got it you don't want to go with me out of spite or whatnot but don't imagine a partner so not to have to go with Harry! He needs someone! He's a Champion!" argued Ron.

Hermione huffed, gathered her books and got up.

"It's not because you fail to see me as a girl that every guy does!" she said before storming off.

"There she goes again! Hermione! I'm sorry! I didn't mean that!" almost yelled Ron, going after her, surprising both Harry and Ginny.

"Was that my brother I just saw apologizing?" asked Ginny, smirking.

"Yeah, he does it a lot more since after the first task, and more sincerely to boot. Hermione is right, though. I need to find a date!" answered Harry, frowning.

Ginny sat sideway on the couch and let her legs lay over Harry's lap, ignoring the egg still there.

"Don't worry about that, Harry! You owe me one, remember? So, you will kindly, and publicly, ask me to go to the Ball with you!" she said with certitude.

Harry looked at the gracious legs on his lap and let his eyes travel back up to their owner.

"With you? This...is perfect! Gosh! And me who was so scared to look awkward all night long with practically a stranger stitched to my arm! But why publicly?"

"Come on, Harry? It's a unique event! A grand Yule Ball for the TriWizard Tournament, a contest that is century years old and you're the _fourth_ participant! Live up a bit! Forge a legend! And girls like to feel wanted too..."

Harry was surprised at first but what started as a chuckle ended in a full blown laughter.

"And what would be a suitable, proper invitation?" he asked, mimicking to shine her shoe with a sleeve.

"Surprise me, Potter!" answered Ginny in her best snobbish tone, trying hard to harness the wild beating of her heart.

Harry grinned like a madman inside his own head, displaying only a small one. He would show her he was truly the son of a Marauder.

* * *

**Just finished checking back this chapt. Now, to resume typing the lost part. ****God I hate computers sometimes.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Do you think that tricking J.K Rowling to read an optometrist letters panel saying I own Harry Potter, like in one of those eighty's movie, would work?**

* * *

Ginny was a nervous wreck the following days. Harry looked even busier than usual, and Ginny feared she bit more than she could chew. She was jittery, but could never totally stop from smiling. Ron and Hermione asked her if something was wrong, which she always answered, sounding more nervous she would have liked, that everything was just peachy. When they asked while Harry was around, the later would always wore a devious smirk. After a full week, at lunch, the waiting was finally over.

Four owls entered the Great Hall, flying side by side, each ones carrying an envelope that trailed golden sparks behind. They dropped them at the corner of the hall, the blood red envelopes hovering at head level. Howlers! But…who ever heard of golden trimmed howlers?

As they opened, classical music filled the Hall and it seemed to be the cue for a small procession of house elves in clean Hogwarts crested rags, following Dobby dressed in a black tuxedo, to walk down the Hall. Dobby radiated pride and nervousness. He never was so fully clothed in his life! It was so indecent! He wouldn't let his friend Harry Potter down, not after all he did for him! Last Christmas, the Great Harry Potter sent a package addressed to him with instruction to give the content to his master Draco! It was a lone black sock with a note telling the bleach Blond to 'sock it up'. In fury, Draco threw the footwear to Dobby, who was freed! What a brilliant wizard!

Back to the present, the four elves trailing him seemed to carry something invisible at shoulder level. The procession stopped at the Gryffindor table and Dobby cleared his throat loudly. He spoke with the loudest, non-shrieking voice anyone ever heard from an elf.

"Miss Ginny Weasley, I have the privilege of introducing you to my master, this valorous Champion of Hogwarts who wishes to ask you, in all humility, a simple question."

As he finished speaking, he took some grey powder from a pouch and spread it right over the elves' hidden burden. Harry, in his school robes, knelling on a huge silver shield marked with the Gryffindor crest, had his head bowed, a hand on a knee. He raised his head and, in the dying music of the exhausted howlers, asked the girl he now faced softly:

"Would you go to the Yule Ball with me, Ginny?"

The hall was deadly quiet, waiting for the answer. Ginny forgot all pretenses, jumped over the table screaming "Yes!" and threw herself in Harry's arms. The Great Hall erupted in cheers, everyone loving a show now and then! Harry managed to get Ginny and himself off the shield, since the poor elves' knees were starting to shake under the strain. Dobby bowed low before leading the procession out of the Hall.

Hermione just squealed in excitement and couldn't wait to hug Ginny in congratulations.

"He's mental," was the sole comment of Ginny's youngest brother. He knew better than to get between those two.

Harry finally sat at his table, getting enough claps on the back to leave him sore for the next hour. After some 'girl time' with Ginny, Hermione quickly rounded on him.

"Was that revealing powder Dobby used on you? Where did you get any on such a short notice?"

"I asked professor Flitwick and he told me he was able to teach how to make some, but couldn't do it himself. Apparently, it takes a special frame of mind to be able to make the disillusion spell stick on a virtual infinity of star dust. The dust itself is common potion ingredient, and as to find a witch with the needed mindset…"

"Luna," spoke Ginny, grinning.

"Exactly! That's always going to be a nice skill for her to have. Vanishing and Revealing powder can be worth a pretty penny," nodded Harry.

Now Hermione bit her lips, unsure if she should say the next thing she had on her mind.

"The elves were delighted!" assured Harry. "Dobby said I pretty much made a dream come true, and the other ones were honored to be part of something so ceremonial. They felt they had a part in history. They were glad of their part in it too."

"I still feel we take advantage of them," she said, sighing.

"Every creature on this Earth serves its own interests," said a light voice out of nowhere. "For humans, it's love and power. Goblins are control freaks who worship gold. Centaurs' lives focus on nature and their tribes. Giants' goal is to eat as much as they can and fight with bigger clubs. House elves' desires happened to be making humans happy and serving them blindly. Their system of values is build from that. How can we ever perfectly understand? We're only human, after all. We can only accept."

After her uninterrupted tirade, Luna sat, facing Ginny, and started to serve herself dessert.

"For some reason, the ones with the most sugar always end up on this table…" she whispered loudly to them.

"Luna, have you been reading on muggle psychology lately?" asked Hermione dreadfully.

With some sugar cream pie in her mouth, Luna showed Hermione the cover of her current reading material.

"Final Fantasy Eight Strategy Guide?" read Harry. "I didn't know you played that game."

Luna blinked twice.

"It's a game?"

* * *

Harry stood as rigid as a board. He didn't look half bad in his ceremonial suit, if he may say so himself. It even gave him some allure. He took a handkerchief to dry his moist hands. He knew Ginny worked on herself for the past four hours getting ready. Even Hermione started after her and she said she had to take care of her hair!

Looking up, as he heard the door of the third year girls' dorm close, he felt like a traitor. The girl that just got out was nothing short of majestic. She wore a dark silver dress that matched no House colors, with her long, sandy blond hair free, going down her back. Her eyes were downcast, looking carefully not to trip on her dress in the stairs, allowing Harry to marvel on the matching silver and metallic blue makeup that, for once, wasn't trying to cheat on the skin's true color, but added to the art the girl became. As she looked up, her eyes catching Harry's, she let a small smile as his brain finally registered he was really looking at Ginny. He knelt before her, like when he asked her out, and presented her the traditional flower to put on her robe. She took it and he helped her pin it on.

"Ginny, you look nothing short of incredible! But…your hair?"

She winked at him.

"I wanted to check out if it's true that blondes have more fun! Who knows, it might be there to stay…"

"I wouldn't mind," spoke Harry at once, in a daze.

Ginny offered him a wide smile, and then her arm. Harry took it gently and walked her out of Gryffindor tower, standing a bit straighter, but this time out of pride.

* * *

The Ball was a huge success and the partners pretty much stole the Champion's spotlight. Seeing Hermione and Ginny laughing side to side got more than one guy jealous of the Durmstrang and the Gryffindor/Hogwarts Champions. Cho Chang was no left over either, with her traditional Chinese dress. Fleur was even more stunning than usual and her date was no slouch either, but he just couldn't compare.

Harry danced more that he thought himself able of. He had to learn how to ballroom dance, and Ginny drilled his feet raw to it. She had to work hard herself, and pushed her patience to the limit as classical music was not her forte. She easily got bored, and more often than not, a wireless was out, letting out music for a more modern kind of dancing as soon as professor McGonagall was out of the room.

They let themselves wild on the loud, thrashing music. Ron was on the side, looking miserable, while Hermione danced with Victor Krum. Harry, focused on Ginny as he was, barely noticed him.

He couldn't remember when it was they started slow dancing. He couldn't remember either when they started kissing. He just went where the night led them and stopped worrying about everything.

They left the ballroom to walk in the ice garden outside and met Snape who was on his way out, muttering something about shameless behavior.

"Potter. Don't tell me I will have to hunt you out of some hideout with your little girlfriend to teach you to keep your hands for yourself? Being a champion doesn't exempt you from decency…" he sneered, blocking their way.

Harry simply smiled. Even Snape couldn't ruin this night.

"I wouldn't dream of anything but being a perfect gentleman tonight, professor. After all, this is a special occasion. We have all year long to be naughty teenagers behind your back," he answered, before gently pulling a giggling Ginny with him. A low growl followed their departure.

"You mean it, Harry?" asked Ginny as they walked. "We have…all the rest of the time?" she said, holding her breath.

"You made me discover how much fun life can be when you stop holding back on it. Why should this be any different? We'll see where this takes us," he shrugged, pulling her a bit closer.

It was as new to him as it was to her, but they both tried to shrug off any teen awkwardness there always is with first love.

* * *

Harry woke up to a house elf poking him and shoving a strange-looking plant in his hand. Dobby then hushed him toward the location of the second task. Harry told everyone the message he got from the egg, thanks to Cedric's input, and he instantaneously knew what would be taken from him. He felt ill knowing that Ginny would be resting at the bottom of the lake for a whole hour, but what was that 'lost forever' part? Could the Cup really make him…lose her? There is more than one way to lose someone, and he was scared out of his mind at the thought of losing her at this point.

After everything that happened this year, reminding him that something was up with this tournament, the only thing that stopped him from going bonkers was Ginny. On the platform, he waited for the signal, shoved the plant in his mouth and dove underwater.

* * *

Ginny woke up, sputtering water and doing her best to stop it from going in her mouth. She heard more panting around her, one being from a small girl to the left of Harry and her boyfriend himself who seemed on the verge of passing out. She grabbed him under an arm, since he was holding on something underwater with the other, and was about to pull him toward the starting deck. Looking back, she saw the small girl looking around, scared.

"Are you okay?" asked Ginny loudly. "Can you make it to the deck?"

"Fleur, où es-tu?" called the small girl.

Ginny heard someone dive in the water nearby and guessed the small French witch would be taken care of.

"We're almost there, Harry," said Ginny, wondering why her boyfriend was so silent, even with his deep breathing.

As official pulled him up on the deck, the blood on his swimsuit and all over his torn shirt finally appeared. He was holding a side with the arm that Ginny couldn't grab.

"Harry! What happened! Where…"she started, fighting her way out of the water.

Hermione helped her but kept her from going to Harry, Madam Pomfrey already having him carried in a tent. Dumbledore looked torn himself but let the med-witch to her art. She was the best there was after all. He went to the mermaid leader who looked very uncomfortable at this very moment and started a discussion. Dumbledore had blazing eyes near the end and the last shriek he sent made the mermaid cringe before jumping back in the water.

He went to the other judges and explained something with obvious anger in his voice. Karkaroff seemed to wave the matter away but then, everyone present turned toward Dumbledore as even a blind man would have felt that flare in his aura. The anger was palpable and the few words he sent toward the Durmstrang's Headmaster must have been well chosen as the dark man took two steps back and lowered his head.

Ginny stood before the entrance of the tent, refusing anything to drink or even to dry herself without knowing how Harry was. Ron went and stood beside his sister.

"You know, it's not the first time he's hurt, Gin…"

"Shut up, Ron,"

"Sure, sure, but…if I was Harry, I wouldn't like to see my girlfriend all cold and shivering when I would finally be in shape to see her. I would rather see her as a reminder of what I bled for. A warm hand in mine when I wake up, you know," he said lightly.

Ginny looked at herself and searched around her.

"Hermione! Do you know a good drying charm? If that pepper-up potion offer is still available, I think I'll take one or two…"

Hermione sent Ron a warm look and the later shrugged.

"If she's really what matters the most to him…" he muttered, smiling a bit sadly.

* * *

The score, once again, was clearly in Harry's favor. Dumbledore insisted that Harry's will to free all hostages, and not only his own, showed great strength of character and not…lack of judgment. He was now way ahead in the score. The reason of Harry's injuries were kept silent, but was a shocking reminder of the dangers that lurk in the wild.

The Champions, and Harry's friends, either knew or were told the truth. Harry's wound, partly hidden by his shirt, was the puncture wound of a spear. Harry, resting on his bed, accepted to tell his friend what happened if they swore not to tell anyone, and not to fuss over him. Ginny took his hand between her own and simply waited. She was glad, now, to have listened to Ron.

"All went good and well thanks to Dobby. The gillyweed worked wonders and I used the 'aguamanti' spell to propel myself even faster. I got there and saw the mermaid circling the four hostages, handling weapons. I stood between Ginny and them and they made no attempt to stop me. It lasted until right after I cut the rope that tied Ginny to the bottom of the lake. I moved over to Hermione but they just lunged at me, weapon raised. I did the first thing that came to mind and shot an aguamanti spell, sweeping it back and forth. That stopped them in their tracks but one threw his spear at me. I don't have to tell you his aim was good," Harry said, wincing and putting a hand on his side.

"I shot a reducto at that one, but what he received was boiling water. From the scalding he received, and the scream that issued, I think he would have rater prefer the original spell. Funny, that's the moment they choose to stop attacking. Victor got there and I helped him get Hermione's rope in his shark mouth. He was looking at me with small, hungry eyes and I'm glad his transformation was only half-done. Cedric came right after and was about to help me with Fleur's sister but the mermaids came back from hiding to attack him. I didn't have the time to deal with them so I pulled on both rope to move Ginny and the little girl up, propelling myself with the water spell again. The gillyweed stopped working once I got back to the surface. That's it."

Ron sighed, sat heavily on a folding chair and looked up.

"Mate, someone really wants you dead. You'll have to pick up the pace of your training."

"Yeah, I know," Harry sighed.

"You don't, yet. I mean really pick it up," spoke Ron, looking at him pointedly.

* * *

For once, Ron meant every bit of what he said. He scheduled some mean training sessions. He recruited the help of a few others in order to make it even more painful.

He started by practicing the shield charm. Harry's protego shield was Swiss cheese under the straight assault of six wands shooting stinging hexes non-stop. Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George and Luna shot at Harry who wasn't allowed to move or block with anything else that his shield. After the first ten minutes, Harry threw his wand on the ground and yelled.

"What the hell is that supposed to achieve? All I'll have to show is more rashes tomorrow!"

They took a light break and Ron walked to him, a bit uneasy.

"Mate, I noticed something while you train, or, like, in the first task. Remember your Patronus last year? The _accio_ spell earlier this one? The aguamanti spell, who's suppose to be a thin jet of water, used to water the plants and put out campfires? Under pressure, you have this ability to learn and power-up a single spell at an incredible pace. The more pressure you're under, real pressure, the faster you learn! This is the only non-lethal way I could come up with to make you learn that spell. Your drive to stop being stung should make it happen."

Harry looked a bit less angry but only so much.

"Well, after ten minutes of it, I'm still at the point of trying to get my stinging hand to cast the spell right. What about we restart with only two people firing at me?"

Ron sighed. This wouldn't work. Ginny walked up to them.

"I've got an idea. Let's start over again."

Ron shrugged and walked up to the firing range. Turning around, he lifted his wand, but froze. Ginny stood right in front of Harry, her wand away.

"Ready? Fire!" she yelled.

As a reflex, the five remaining attackers fired a volley. Harry cast a shield in a hurry, covering both him and Ginny. It blocked the first three, letting the last two hit his living shield. She hissed in pain but looked back at Harry, smiling.

"I understand how you could be so irritated after ten minutes of that," she said.

Harry's eyes harden. Ron smiled.

"On my mark: fire at will!"

* * *

Harry was deeply troubled with Mr. Crouch disappearance. He was long convinced that someone out there was out for his blood. One could say it was paranoia, but Harry could link every event back to himself. The Goblet of Fire spewing out his name was only the first. This one was a bit more subtle, but Harry remembered that it was Mr. Crouch's house elf that was found with his wand bearing the trace of a dark mark spell. Now as to who was behind it all, Harry knew just too well. His dream at the start of the summer was still vivid and he had a few others that pictured Voldemort in shape enough to hold a wand and cast the killing curse.

Hermione told him he should concentrate on the here and now, mainly on learning the list of spell she prepared. She said that Voldemort had no way to grow back a body and his dream didn't show him possessing anyone for the moment. Harry went to Ron and related Hermione's advice.

"Her deductions are good and based on solid logical reasoning, but since when Voldemort acted in a rational way? Going after me like that borders on obsession! I feel like I'm running out of time, or rather, that I should use the time I have to do something else. I am sure that at some point, when I'll be the most vulnerable, he'll send his henchmen to get me. This maze offers too many opportunities. I want to redirect the training and upgrade it a notch."

"Harry, we can't speed things up any faster short of trying to kill you, or Ginny! To make you master that list of spells Hermione made…"

"Exactly. The list is too long. Too many spells. In a fight, I can't stop to ponder which one to use. I have to learn less spells and power them up more," Harry said.

"How many spells, then?" asked Ron, frowning.

Harry looked pensive a moment.

"One. I need just one spell."

* * *

Hermione was a bit crossed at first that her research wouldn't be put to use, all but one spell she put at the bottom of the list.

"It takes too much time to cast, Harry! It takes a lot of power too and, honestly, it can't answer all situations!"

"Power, I have it. We established I can become freakishly good at controlling a spell so speed shouldn't pose a problem either when I'll have it mastered."

"And the use you make of it depends solely on your imagination," said Luna dreamingly. "I love your idea, Harry. It will surprise your enemy."

Everyone turned to Luna, then to Hermione. The later shook her head, defeated.

"If even Luna says they will be surprised, I guess there is nothing to add."

"Don't worry, 'Mione. We can always learn the rest of the spells after the tournament, or next year! We'll have a lot of free time then and we'll already have a training routine ready!" said Ron.

Hermione offered him a beaming smile and Harry knew that the bad blood from the Ball mess was long gone.

* * *

"Everyone's ready? Potter, you have two whole minutes of head starts. On my mark…" started Ludo Bagman just before Filch fired a canon disturbingly close to the crowd. Harry, starting to run, distractingly thought it wouldn't be above him to slip a cannonball into it, pretending that he didn't know it had to be fired blank.

Harry knew this was it. This was the day, the very hour he would face Voldemort after barely a few months preparation. He would come here and try to get to Harry at the only place in Hogwarts that was meant to be dangerous: the third task's maze. He would face him head on, this time, and use veritaserum on any flunkies he might leave behind when Harry will tear his weakened form down! He would stop him from being a nuisance once and for all.

Harry turned a corner and stood face-to-something-akin-to-a-face with a blast-ended scrout. It had eyes and a mouth but any resemblance to a face stopped there. Still, Harry remembered it well since he spent the year feeding the like of them in Hagrid's garden. Having seen what it could do all year long placed him in the best position to know how to handle it. Harry simply lifted his wand up, the complex movement of the spell hidden in the straight line, the result of endless hours of practice.

A ten inches thick wall shot from the ground between Harry and the newly-bred monster. Harry then turned around and ran in another direction.

The path he took led him to another obstacle that wasn't a dangerous foe this time, but an enchantment that blocked the way in a pretty, shimmering shower of spark. Harry transfigured another wall of stone, this one really thin and loose at the base. He pushed it down with one hand, using it as a test-bridge. The wall fell, but didn't break. The really curious thing was that even if it didn't break, the part in the shimmer was now stuck to the ceiling.

"It just put things upside down!" figured Harry out loud. He closed his eyes and crossed, the only indication something changed was a light vertigo and the light chime of the enchantment. He resumed his run right after it. Of course, he left a wall behind him to block the way. No senses in letting someone follow him.

"Young contestant, a riddle I will ask and correctly answer you must for me to let you pass. For a wrong answer will…Hey! You can't just jump over my leg and run pass me! Come back you little rat!" said the Sphinx, who wasn't prepared for someone like Harry. It got up, growling mad, resolute to eat that little, impudent monkey and the hell with the wizards!

Harry barely looked behind himself and waved his wand. A two foot thick wall shot like a rocket from the ground and took out the running Sphinx right under the chin. The wall kept on rising a few feet before coming to a stop. A heavy 'thud' was heard on the other side, and then nothing. Either the Sphinx was knocked out or he figured that Harry was too much trouble to run after.

Rounding another corner, Harry saw the Cup right ahead!

Alright now, where's the catch. Harry knew he ran full speed most of the way and avoided more than took care of most of the obstacles, but this was still too easy. Harry ran to the cup, blocking each side passage with more stone walls, leaving only one at the other side of the Cup open.

"Come on Pettigrew! Come out! I know you're here! It's either you or that other no-name wizard who kiss Lord What's-his-name under-robe! Come out!"

Harry circled the Cup three times but no one answered his challenge. No one stepped out, trying to grab him.

"I guess the trap is meant to be during the celebration, then," muttered Harry, taking the Cup.

A feeling of dread filled him.

"Or not."

* * *

Harry made a full circle on himself after getting up. He did his best to roll the fall that end inevitably any form of magical travel he takes, except for a good old broom. The Cup fell at his side, on the graveyard ground.

"Shit. Now that this is established, where am I? This place looks vaguely familiar. Oh shit, that's the place I dream about, meaning…"

The pain, as much as he just started to expect it, took him by surprise and made him drop on his knee. His memory couldn't quite prepare him for it as his brain could not totally grasp the amplitude of the pain he felt back in his first year. It was as if his head couldn't handle the pain and some overflowed from his body to hurt his very spirit.

"Expeliarmus!"

Harry's wand flew from his hand, and that was the start of a very unpleasant moment. He found himself bound to a statue, forced to watch one of the darkest ritual there was, using the bones of a father, the flesh of a servant and the blood of an enemy: his blood! He saw the dreaded return of his nemesis and the puppets he call Death Eaters come back running to him. The monster, that might have been human once, started talking and talking, never growing tired of hearing his own voice before challenging him to a duel. He was freed from the statue. He was given his wand back and now faced a Dark Lord.

And for what? All he ever wanted was to live in peace! To go to school, learn something and make a living out of it far away from the Dursley! Why did it all have to land on him?

_-You are not normal! You never were and never will be! Get it in that thick head of yours!-_ said the memory of Ginny, roaring in his mind.

It pulled him back to the present, and to Voldemort who laughed at him, telling his minions that he broke his toy before he could play with it. Harry snarled. He wouldn't play to wound or to maim this time. He would not go easy like he did to the dragon, or the mermaids. To be able to finally live, this abomination would have to die. Not only die, it had to be _destroyed_.

Harry raised his wand violently and four thick wall rose around Voldemort, encasing him in stone. The one right in front of him blew at once and Harry made another one rise right in front of himself, shielding him from the flying debris.

"Stone walls, Harry Potter? You seem to be somewhat competent with them, congratulation. Too bad no mere wall can imprison me."

Voldemort apparated behind Harry, past the protective stone construct. He sent a bone-crushing curse right at head level and Harry, recognizing it, raised another wall between him and the spell, dispersing it. Voldemort hissed in annoyance and a game of cat and mouse started. Soon, Harry found himself in another labyrinth, but this one was of his making. He erected walls faster than Voldemort destroyed them and ran everywhere, expending the area the Dark Lord had to search for him. Harry connected the walls and started to make them move. At more than one occasion, he almost made a Dark Lord sandwich. When Harry started making walls out of other walls, going so far as making a ceiling he would drop on him if he dared chose that way, Voldemort had had enough.

"Lucius! What are you waiting for? Take down those walls! But never forget that the boy is mine to kill!"

Now the walls started to crumble way faster that what Harry could produce. Still, he managed to wound a lot of Death Eaters and even trap some under rubble. Then, directly in front of him, a wall crumbled and let through a familiar jet of ruby light. The reductor curse flew right at him. He had no place to dodge left or right, his own walls trapping him. His wand was in front of him, but the time he would try to make a shield, the curse would be on him. He realized that the moment he saw the spell speed his way.

Recognizing it, he meant to throw his own but didn't. The tip of his wand connected with the spell and _stuck_ to it! Wanting to get rid of it, Harry whipped it back from where it came. The spell left his wand right when he wanted to and he was rewarded, a second and a half later, by a disgusting, gurgling noise.

What did he just do? Did he really throw back a curse? He felt as if the spell he prepared to throw was in his wand, the energy balancing the one of the spell outside and stopping his tool of holly wood and phoenix feather from being shattered. Then, something in the wand held on to the spell until he wanted it gone! It took him a grand total of ten seconds to come to those conclusions and by that time, the walls surrounding him were crushed down and Voldemort stood a short distance to him.

"Your resistance was greater than expected, Harry. More cowardly so, but that was to be expected from the son of James and Lily Potter! After all, that was pretty much what they did before they died: they tried to hide from me! As you might realize today, it did them a FAT load of GOOD!" he finished, spitting the last part loudly.

"Aveda Kedravra!"

The spell shot out of Voldemort skeletal wand, a sickly green light of pure malevolence. Harry knew that spell. He knew it well. He was struck with it when he was barely one year old and he even dream of a green flash of light sometimes! It was truly the first spell he could remember, and Harry felt pretty murderous himself. What this thing did to him, to his parents! Ron said he could learn freakishly fast when threatened. It was time to put that theory to the test.

The green light was mere centimeters in front of his wand, and the later shook with excitement. Oh, how bad it wanted to get even with its twin sister! The spell connected and Harry felt an incredible tension in his arm, all the way to his shoulders. His arms went over his right shoulder, where he pulled up at the ray of death, desperately hanging on. His feet dragged on the ground and Harry's face was a slow, grimacing mask painted with efforts. Tom Riddle's face was slowly etching with surprise.

Harry finally wiped his hand forward, sending the spell back to sender like a bad owl. Just before letting go of the spell, illumination flashed in his mind.

"Aveda Kedavra!"

Harry's own death curse spiraled with the first and doubled the speed of the spell, giving no chance to the newly reborn Dark Lord to move away. He flew back a few feet, one of the killing curses absorbed by his body and forcing a thick, grey mist out of his back. The resisting spirit barely had the time to shape as Voldemort's head that it was struck by the second killing curse, making it explode like a rock made of ethereal ashes. The scream echoed all around, bouncing back around on the tombstones.

Such a moment call for stunned silence and reverential fear. Instead, screams of pain erupted from the still conscious Death Eaters. They grasped at their tattooed arms, experiencing the death of their master up close.

Harry, panting, looked left and right, before raising his wand.

"Accio Tournament Cup."

* * *

**Only one chapter left! Major OCC in the next but hey, it's the finale!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: .rettoP yrraH nwo ton od I**

* * *

Harry got back to the Tournament field in plain chaos. The victor just disappeared with the Cup while an Imperiused Champion attacked another. If not for the other Hogwarts' Champion, Victor Krum might very well have murdered Fleur Delacour.

Harry scanned the crowd, who was still oblivious to his return, searching for something specific. He saw Snape, the normally stoic potion master, grasping at his arm, a grimace on his face. Harry averted his eyes as the greasy teacher, sensing a stare on him, tried to lock stares. Finally, Harry found what he was looking for. He ignored the whole crowd and wordlessly went straight toward Alastor Moody who held his right arm down, a look of deep confusion on his face. Looking up and seeing a very alive Harry Potter walk purposefully toward him, he understood his cover was blown. He took out his wand but it was too late as Harry already had his own out.

"Expelliarmus," Harry cast swiftly, catching the teacher's wand as it flew to him.

Without it, he could not escape and the Quidditch field that was not exempt of Hogwarts' anti-apparition wards. The impostor jumped on the nearest witch to steal her wand but his leap was abruptly stopped by a wall of bricks that wasn't there a second before. If the circumstance wouldn't be so grave, Harry would have laughed at the sight of the semi-conscious teacher slowly sliding down to the ground. Albus knew better than to accuse Harry after the bizarre way Alastor behaved. He sent a spell and tied the man down with ropes.

"Harry, what is this all about?" could finally ask the old Headmaster.

"Either Alastor Moody is a Death Eater, or this is an impostor," said Harry with certitude.

From anyone else, this affirmation would have triggered row of protests and dispute but after Harry incapacitated a teacher so easily, so fast, and looking at his battered look, it gave them food for the thoughts. Severus Snape walked in his usual bellowing way, no traces left of his previous discomfort showing. He went immediately for the bound man's flask and opened it. Smelling the content, he grimaced.

"For once, Potter isn't bragging. This is polyjuice, meaning that this man isn't who he claims to be."

Harry welcomed the support, even the way it was delivered.

"I believe it is a rightful occasion to put one of your more special potions to use, Severus," said Albus gravely. "I think it would be best to wait for the Minister, though, as he might find what we will learn very...educational."

"Yes, Headmaster," answered the potion master.

"Professor McGonagall, please find a cozy, but not overly so, dungeon to hold our prisoner," ordered Dumbledore to his Deputy Headmistress.

"At once, Professor."

"Now, what about you, Harry? Are you hurt? We will need your presence, I am afraid. Are you in a right state for this?"

Seeing his friend near him, and Ginny looking at him, worried, Harry decided that a single 'I'm fine, thank you' would be even worse than the actual truth.

"I've been stabbed in the arm, and the wound is still losing a bit of blood. I have also been submitted to the Cruciatus a number of times. The rest are cuts and bruises that can wait to be treated."

Dumbledore's eyes shot toward his arm as he numbered his injuries but then lifted up to lock eyes with Harry as he mentioned the Cruciatus. Harry knew this led to very few possibilities and didn't try to shy away from the Headmaster's gaze. Finally, Dumbledore turned toward the people nearby and found the Charm teacher.

"Professor Flitwick, if you could send Madam Pomfrey to my office and inform her of Mister Potter's injuries, I would be very grateful."

The Headmaster then shielded Harry from the crowd with his own kind of magic, simply by putting an arm around his shoulder and leading him away to his office.

* * *

Harry sat on a conjured chair, feeling old and tired. He wanted nothing more than just drift off to sleep until the end of term. Fawkes sang a small trill, making him close his eyes and smile. He lost himself in pleasant memories of the Yule Ball. The moment ended when Dumbledore got back from the floo network. Harry noticed distractingly that the knife wound on his arm was closed, leaving brand new skin behind. The bird blinked at him and Harry sent a grateful smile.

"I see that my two favorite friends are still getting along! Thank you, old friend, I realize it's not as easy as it look," said Dumbledore, stroking the fiery feathers of his companion.

The birds' answer was akin to a waving off, but still enjoyed the petting.

"Now, Harry, I know it must be hard to re-live such hardships so soon after experiencing them but..."

"Voldemort came back," said Harry, uninterested in beating around the bush.

That shocked the Headmaster just long enough for Harry to organize the story in his head and deliver it in the shortest way possible.

"He used a ritual involving the bones of his father, the flesh of a servant and the blood of the enemy. Pettigrew took the bones directly from the grave and cut his hand over a cauldron. He took my blood and once he was brought back, Voldemort could touch me without any pain, for him anyway. He called on a full Death Eater meeting right after."

"I fear we are in for a very dark time," said Albus, shaking his head. He stopped and frowned when Harry couldn't stop a chuckle.

"Wait! It gets better! He challenged me to a duel! I managed to stall him a bit but one of his minion sent a spell passed one of my stone walls. I don't know why I can do it, but I managed to catch the spell with my wand and send it back!"

Albus Dumbledore's mouth stated gaping open long enough for a fly to come in, visit and leave, bothered by the strong lemon smell.

"The best is that Tom didn't even see it! Not until he threw a killing curse at me. Guess what? I caught it and sent it back with one of my own! It killed the body _and_ destroyed the spirit that sprouted behind! While his followers were shouting and crying like little girls, grasping their arms, I summoned the Cup, that was a portkey all along, and voilà! I'm back!" said Harry a bit over-enthusiast.

Dumbledore slumped back on his seat, his mouth opening and closing a few times.

"He's...dead?"

"Even more than before!" smiled Harry.

"This might change a few plans I had..."

"For the better, I hope," now smirked Harry.

The conversation stopped there as Professor McGonagall erupted in the office, closely followed by the Minister of Magic.

"This is not acceptable, Albus! To allow such a creature in the school! I could barely stand them near the borders last years!"

"I have the right to choose whatever bodyguard I see fit! I _am_ the Minister of Magic, Miss McGonagall!"

Albus managed to calm them down enough to learn that the imposter's soul was now being digested by Fudge's bodyguard.

"What was that all about, anyway? Why would someone pose as a Hogwarts' teacher?" asked Fudge, ready to sweep the matter under the carpet as an accident.

"He worked for a group of Death Eaters that escaped the Aurors, Minister," said Harry, serious.

Albus sent a sharp glare toward his golden boy, unsure as to where he was going with this.

"Death Eaters?" asked the Minister fearfully.

"Yes, Minister," kept on Harry, nodding. "That man took the place of a teacher to change the trophy into a portkey. It got me in a cemetery where a Death Eater, who achieved total control over the dark mark, called for a Death Eater's meeting."

"Oh no! Do you think they will follow him?" asked the Minister, worried.

"It won't happen. As a symbol, he tried to kill me, but I'm the one who got him. I managed to flee before the others realized what happened."

The Minister's face visibly brightened.

"So the crisis is over even before it even started! Good job, Mister Potter! You are a double Champion today!"

Harry smiled before answering.

"Thank you, Minister. It still might be a good idea to look for those Death Eaters. They answered the call, after all. They probably would have been willing to start the war all over again. A _secret_ investigation might be in order."

The Minister looked serious at once.

"You might be right. I will have to consult our Unspeakables. What are we going to tell the press, thought? These events are all highly suspicious."

Dumbledore chose that moment to step in the conversation.

"We might want to release that a lone Death Eater terrorism act was thwarted by Harry during the final Task of the TriWizard Tournament. He would have been trying to kill a foreign champion on our soil by possessing another."

"Very good, Albus!" stated Fudge, delighted. "It might not even be so far from the truth!"

It was amazing the speed with which the Minister could bury his head in the sand. Harry knew there would be no investigations.

There was a pompous awarding ceremony followed with great speeches about unity before it was all finally over. Harry told what actually happened to his close friends, and to the other Champions who came to him secretly to know what really happened in the maze. Why would he bother telling anyone else? It was over. The very spirit of Voldemort was destroyed.

* * *

The next day, Lucius Malfoy strode in the Ministry and asked for a private meeting with the Minister. The busy leader of Magical Britain conveniently had a free hour to allow such a meeting. Bad mouths would have whispered that he would have had a free hour any time of any day, so busy he was.

"Lucius! What a surprise! What's the occasion? Are you having trouble obtaining a license for one of your business?" asked Fudge, as helpful as ever.

"Not today, Cornelius," answered the elder Malfoy seriously. "I learned, through various sources, of the events surrounding young Harry Potter at the Tournament. I wondered why you left such matter unpunished!"

"I fear I do not follow you, Lucius," said Fudge nervously. "The boy made us a great service..."

"Minister! Potter killed a man, using an Unforgivable none-the-less! Did you even check his wand? My source assured me that this 'trap' wasn't what Potter tell it to be! A Death Eater meeting, really? And he would have been able to fool one of the most dangerous...group in Britain? The one I spoke to is now too afraid to speak the truth, fearing the alliance you and the boy so visibly made! That brat is disillusioned! Just ask Severus Snape. He's an attention seeker, a glory hound. What is he going to aim for next?" finished Malfoy, letting his question hang.

Fudge took the bait like the paranoid idiot he was.

"I've been a fool to even listen to that boy, Lucius! You are right! The more I think about it, the more it sounds like some cock-and-bull story he would stir up with Dumbledore to get my seat!"

"Indeed, it does. The question is: what are you going to do about it?" asked Lucius innocently.

* * *

"You are accused by this tribunal of making up a false statement to my person, the Minister of Magic, of using an Unforgivable with murderous intent and murder in the person of Vincent Crabbe senior," stated Cornelius Fudge in front of a full Wizengamot.

Fudge waited for Harry to leave the Hogwarts Express, at the end of the school year, to have him arrested by Aurors. Barely an hour later, he faced the whole court, without anyone to defend him.

"With the evidence that provided the examination of residual spells on your wand and the courageous testimony of Mister McNair, this court find you guilty on all charges and sentence you to a life sentence in Azkaban! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"What is this... parody of a trial, Minister?" asked Harry, chained to a chair and flanked by two dementors. It took everything he had for him not to faint but the dementors were not focusing on him at the moment either. "Where is professor Dumbledore?"

Lucius Malfoy, seated at the other end of the table facing Harry, answered with almost a purr of delight in his voice.

"The muggle-lover isn't here to sugar-talk you out of your latest... crisis, boy. In case you haven't noticed, I'm seated at the place of the Chief Warlock, now."

Harry panted a few times, looking at him, but turned his head back toward Fudge.

"What about 'not sending children to prison', Minister?"

"That was then, Mister Potter. This is now. Aurors, take him away."

* * *

Harry was tied up and brought to the shore leading to Azkaban. Word of the 'trial' must have slipped as Dumbledore and most of the Weasley family waited for them and rushed toward the guard party. Dumbledore's patronus was already pushing back the dementors keeping Harry, the dark creatures unable to face the light.

Ginny ran to Harry and threw herself on him, crying, holding desperately on to him. The guards had their wands pointed on the Weasley party but, most specially, on the Headmaster of Hogwarts that was marching angrily toward them.

"Don't even think on stopping us, Dumbledore!" yelled the leader of the Auror guards. "If you so much as take another step toward us, you, this whole bunch of red-head and everyone else who dare to side with you will be branded as outlaw! You'll end up all like scar-boy here, with a place on the cold floor of Azkaban! You want to take a shot for the boy's freedom: fine! Do it in court and follow the procedures!"

It took two guards to separate Ginny from Harry. Ron held on his crying sister as the boat, carrying her boyfriend on the scariest place on Earth, slid on the cold water.

"Did you managed to do it?" he whispered in her ear.

"Yes," she answered, sniffing. "It's up to him, now."

* * *

Harry kept his head lowered and his step heavy. He passed the checkpoints and soon, only one guard was left to lead him to his cell, with one dementor. Harry shook the unlocked chains he was hanging on since Ginny charmed them open, whispering the spell in his arms. Doing so, Ginny's wand, hidden in a sleeve, slid down in his right hand. He voicelessly summoned a cold stone wall that separated him from his guard, and, with another flick of his borrowed wand, made it slid backward, crushing the Auror against another wall.

The dementor glided toward him, hands forwards, but Harry was faster. His hand shot toward its unprotected throat and pulled him toward him, jamming his wand in its opened mouth.

"Expecto Patronum," he simply said, his eyes closed, as a scene where he laid in his bed, surrounded by all hid friends and holding Ginny's warm hand in his, knowing she was unharmed, flashed in his mind.

The corporeal construct of light ripped the soul-sucking monster apart as it shot from the wand. Many dementors, running to the site, witnessed the scene and shuddered. Harry dispelled his patronus, not caring about the monsters surrounding him.

"You...will follow me now," he told the monsters.

* * *

Fudge sat at his office when the screams started. He got up but stayed behind his desk, waiting for the Auror to escort him to safety if the need for it arose. When none came, and that the scream came closer and closer, a cold sweat made its way down his forehead. It froze there.

Fudge was a man of little action and even less actual magical power. When the door opened to let a dementor pass, his back was already pressed against the far wall of his office and helpless screams escaped his mouth. Harry Potter calmly strolled in, looking around at the furniture.

"Harry! Help me! Call your Patronus!" the man shouted, feeling the heat leave his body at an alarming rate.

"Help you? I can't! You took my wand, remember? Anyway, I'm under-aged. I just followed the dementors as they left Azkaban," he said, shrugging.

Without any further notice, the dementor jumped on Fudge, took his head between its hands and kissed him. The scream outside reduced themselves to whimpers, then, to quiet sobbing.

Harry went around the desk and tested the chair. It was comfy. He looked at the desk and searched for a call button to the Minister's secretary. All he found was an old fashion voice pipe of some sort.

"Hello? Hello? Whoever's hearing this, would you kindly step in the Minister's office?"

Harry opened a few drawers and guessed he would have a major clean-up to do there too. A middle-aged woman in high heels entered the office scared shitless, and took in the scene. Her hands went to her mouth, seeing the dead body of Fudge.

"I would like to have your attention, Miss," said Harry from behind his desk. "I have a question of the upmost importance that will shape your immediate future. Are you listening?"

The woman quickly turned toward him, as her own existence was in peril, and forgot everything about the corpse on the floor. She nodded vigorously.

"I would like to ask you: who's the actual Minister of Magic?" asked Harry, crossing his hand over his desk.

The woman feared, in the last war, that the Dark Lord would ask her that very question. She prepared her answer back then and saw it to be fitting today.

"You are, sir."

"Very good! I see we understand each other well. Now, we'll have to see about the funeral of the previous Minister, who had a sad dementor accident. We all know how he liked to have one as a bodyguard and that he couldn't even cast a Patronus himself. Being left alone in his office with one was a grave mistake."

"Yes sir, a tragedy," she answered, bowing her head.

"None-the-less, the government cannot be left a moment without a leader, so I will hold on the reins as Interim Minister of Magic until a permanent one is named by the Wizengamot. I hereby call for an emergency session of the Wizengamot. I will take care personally of informing them of the previous Minister's unfortunate fate and will ask you to pass the word that until I authorize it, none of the recent events can be mentioned by anyone. You may go."

As the secretary meant to leave the office, Harry called to her.

"I forgot: would you be so kind as to send me the Auror in charge of Potion making? Thank you."

With only the dementor having sealed Fudge's fate as a witness, Harry walked over the dead body.

"Time for some major cleansing."

* * *

Dumbledore sat in his own office at Hogwarts. He just saw the prophesied kid that saved them all being dragged in the place that could be considered as the closest to Hell on Earth, and he did nothing. His hands might have been tied back then, in order to prevent the Weasley from being branded as criminals, but he was inches from going back there, right now. How could they lock him up on such pretences and technical details? How could the Wizengamot let such a thing pass?

The Wizengamot...he was evicted from his status as Chief Warlock without too much ceremony, not even an article in the Prophet. If asked, they would say he stepped down. If only he would have been more suspicious, he might have figured they were up to no good! Still, there were a few people in there that would have stuck to their ideals, to do the right thing. The root of corruption must run deep to allow a majority of three quarter to send a soon-to-be fifteen years old boy in prison.

The official way, as it was now, would let the poor boy in there long enough to rip him off of all good there was. He could not sit and let it go. He would have to go there and free him, alone, tearing the place upside down if need be. Giving the boy a wand, they could handle the dementors. And then, then...

His great plans stopped there, as his mind, betraying him, drew blank. He didn't realize when he got up, ready to go. He noticed it when he turned toward the roaring fire, signalizing a floo call.

"Convocation for the Supreme Mugwump to an emergency assembly of the Wizengamot!" said a faceless voice in the fire. The call ended as abruptly as it came.

Dumbledore blinked twice, looking at the now dead fire. Did he just dream that? Turning toward his phoenix, that sent him the bird equivalent of a shrug, he guessed it was real. On auto-pilot, Dumbledore threw floo powder in the empty fireplace.

"Ministry building!"

* * *

For an emergency meeting, they were in no hurry to let them in. They were led toward courtroom ten by Aurors that seemed to be everywhere. People looked grim, scared and oddly silent. When asked about it, the Auror guarding the entrance of the courtroom nervously admitted that the Ministry building was still on alert after an attack that happened less than an hour ago. They were forbidden to speak about it by the Minister himself and it was probably the reason of the meeting.

"Albus! What a surprise to see you here. This is a _Wizengamot_ meeting, after all..." drawled an approaching Lucius Malfoy.

"Mister Malfoy," answered Dumbledore, finding the day to be less and less pleasant. "The surprise is mine alone since _I_, as the Supreme Mugwump, am entitled to be present. On the other hand, a friend of the Minister, even his honored guest, is asked to remain on the side, with the crowd."

"You haven't heard yet? How savory. I happen to be the one upon who the title of Chief Warlock was bestowed and I must say that the Minister's choice in the matter was a very obvious one. I took the liberty to make a few replacements amongst the other seats since we were under the wind of changes..."

Looking around, Albus noticed the absence of Amelia Bones and a few others that used to support him. Now, the people waiting to enter courtroom ten could all be closely linked on a family tree. No pureblood law would be denied now. Was that Goyle senior over there? Who signed his name on the Chart for him?

"I must say that no matter the money you possess, nothing compare to having the fate of someone in your hand during a trial. I led my first one just yesterday on the poor, deluded Harry Potter. I must say I found the taste of justice simply...addictive," he finished, his face the picture of corrupted madness.

Albus felt dirty only to stay in close presence of the man. Was that the young boy he taught how to shave when he was sixteen? How could anyone fall so low? The Aurors finally opened the door and let them in. To their surprise, they collected their wands, a new security measure due to the earlier attack and the imposter mess after the Third task of the Tournament.

Albus was last to be inspected and had a lot of trouble hiding his surprise when the Auror, after taking his wand, slipped it back in Albus' pocket, smiling and motioning him to go on.

"Help us," the Auror whispered, so low he could have imagined it.

Now totally alert, Albus entered the courtroom, taking his seat.

"Do not fall asleep, old man!" teased Lucius from his higher seat, at the end of the table.

Many members laughed at the bout, assured that the Supreme Mugwump would no longer be a threat to their pureblood ways. There was no need for an emergency meeting to demote him but the man was weakened by the lost of his golden boy.

Cornelius Fudge entered the courtroom from an adjacent door, flanked by two dementors who stopped a few paces from the table. A chill was felt, merely uncomfortable for most.

The wizards and witches present all got up at their leader's entrance, except for Dumbledore, who felt particularly rebellious. Malfoy couldn't stop a smirk.

"Please be seated, everyone. We will forego any... ceremonial today and move on to the subject at hand."

The standing members of the Wizengamot sat back down in silence, wondering what was so serious to have Fudge refrain from gloating. Were they really not here to destitute Dumbledore of what little remained of his political power? If so, they felt a bit worried to have mocked him so openly...so soon.

"An attack only an hour ago on the Ministry building made me wonder if we haven't made a mistake, if I haven't made a mistake. It came to me that the Potter boy's story might have held some form of truth."

More stunned silence. Did Fudge just admit having made a mistake?

"Have I done well to sentence Mister Potter to a life sentence? The evidence of the Unforgivable was there, I agree, but aren't the circumstances a bit hazy to condemn him so readily? It isn't too late yet. We can still call for an extra-ordinary session of the Wizengamot and put the boy under Veritaserum, as well as our sole witness. I want your genuine advice."

"Minister! You can't even be considering this! This is the last bout of constant law abusing from a muggle-raised glory-seeker!"

Dumbledore couldn't believe his ears. The ill will of Malfoy was nothing surprising, but the agreement of the rest of the Wizengamot was. What did the government turned into?

"I, for one, am glad that you doubt your decision, Minister. As you just said..." started the Headmaster before being cut off.

"Please, _Headmaster_, keep your scolding for school children," said Lucius Malfoy, waving his hand around, as if to throw the Headmaster's words to the wind.

"No, Lucius, let him talk. After all, he has a long...experience of such things," said Cornelius Fudge.

The Malfoy elder didn't know if this was a bout on his own lack of experience in the Wizengamot of one against the old age of Dumbledore. He decided to just lean back on his seat and let the old wizard dig his own grave.

"Thank you, Minister. I will have to admit that the boy is guilty of something. He lied on the gravity of the event at the TriWizard Tournament. Something much darker, and much more dangerous happened. Since he closed the matter with his own hand, he downplayed his actions. He feared not to be believed, and I see he was right."

"A menace greater that a Death Eater resurgence? Really? What proof did he gave to you?" asked the Minister.

"I believe his words," simply stated Dumbledore.

"You trust him that much?" asked Fudge softly.

"I would trust him with my life."

The Minister closed his eyes and crossed his hands before him.

"You just did. Now!"

The dementors, hearing their signal, rushed past the Minister and over the table. Panicked members of the Wizengamot ran away from Dumbledore, not wanting to be close to a feeding dementor. The surprise was whole as the dark creatures went past Dumbledore who had his wand raised now, but stared in surprise as the attackers targeted the retreating members of the Ministry court. More soul-sucking creatures dropped from the ceiling and threw themselves on their victims. Dumbledore got over his shock and raised his wand high, the powerful dementor-repelling spell on his lips.

"Don't, Professor. They deserve it more than anyone else."

The tone in the Minister's voice made Dumbledore turn his head around, the carnage momentarily forgotten. The features of the 'Minister's' face began to shift, starting by the bright eyes that shone of an internal green fire.

"Harry? How...What's the meaning of this?" asked Dumbledore, an eerie silence settling in, the dementors gliding away now that they were done.

Harry was about to say something but held himself. He got up and discarded the Minister's cloths, showing the ragged Hogwarts' robe he wore when he was captured the day before.

"What if I told you this is just a chain of coincidences? The dementors decided to kill the Minister and I couldn't really leave the Ministry without a leader. Isn't it the kind of story the government feed us daily? I decided to become the new Minister and my ethereal friends just wanted to help by handling the clean-up work."

Harry walked up to the Headmaster, visibly nervous, and slowly handed him his wand.

"Just...hold on to this until you hear me out. Please be careful with it, thought, as Ginny would never forgive me if I had her wand damaged. "

A new piece of the puzzle settled in. That was how he escaped! Well, honestly, it was only the possibility. How he managed to break out, without missing a few limbs, from the darkest prison in the world was still a mystery. Harry walked over Lucius Malfoy and raised his sleeve. It was no surprise to see the faded Dark Mark. It was no less a surprise to see it on Goyle's arm.

"What about the dementors? How did you managed to get them on your side?" asked Dumbledore, as Harry revealed yet another Dark Mark on another fallen politician's arm.

"They decided I was too dangerous to double-cross after I destroyed one before them. Look at this! Five in seven have a Dark Mark on their arm! How could the government even get so low..."

"What about Fudge? You said... he's dead now?"

"He was the first to fall. I declared myself Minister and forbid anyone to talk about it before I authorized it. I called for this meeting and the result is pretty much what I expected of it. Did you know that many of our Aurors can't even cast a proper Patronus? Pathetic."

"Isn't the prison left unprotected?" asked Dumbledore, worrying once more.

"For what's left to protect...The Death Eaters there are already dead. Believe me, the dementors are happy to have me as their new...friend."

"What? What if you killed an innocent?" almost yelled the Headmaster, getting worked up. Things were getting out of hand way too fast! A handful of politician corrupted to the core was one thing but to kill a possible innocent convict was something else! Didn't Harry learn anything from the situation with his godfather?

"Did you know that the dementors have the ability to read minds? They know if someone is guilty or now: they just don't care. They know, instinctively, if someone is bad or not. I promised them all the irrecoverable convicted and, in exchange, they stop bothering the innocents and the ones guilty of minor crimes. I guess we'll have a new round of trials for the remaining prisoners."

Albus calmed down some before looking left and right.

"Voldemort too, killed all who opposed him," Dumbledore said in a whisper.

"You seem to get things wrong, Professor," stated Harry, shaking his head. "The ones here were judged on the very same level as the prisoners in Azkaban. I would like to state that I never told them _not_ to kill you."

Albus' eyes were round as saucer plates hearing that.

"You finally understood. They were judged to be guilty of much more than simple corruption. They were just never caught. I know that I am too young and that there is so many laws out there telling me why I can't do the right thing, but hey...We'll cross that bridge when we get there!"

Dumbledore sighed again. He could cry over spilled milk and stop Harry for countless murders in the span of less than a day. Harry was a move from his wand away from being tied in rope and half-way back toward Azkaban, but...

"You are right on one matter, Harry. You are way too young to shoulder this responsibility," said Dumbledore, shaking his head.

"Headmaster..."

"This is why you will need an experienced advisor."

Harry's smile was the first true smile he had in more than a day.

"Well then, I'm lucky that's one of the new roles of the Supreme Mugwump, am I not?"

They left the courtroom, side by side, Harry having retrieved Ginny's wand before getting out. He would soon enough have his own back, as the Unspeakable were working frantically to repair it after it was snapped in half. The Auror looked in horror as their last hope was calmly discussing the next step of action, and their horror only grew when they looked inside courtroom ten.

"Do you think the real Alastor Moody would agree to come out of retirement?" asked Harry lightly. "We really have to do something about the Auror's battle skills."

"Harry! Don't be so quick to judge them on your own scale! They are not the ones able to take out a room full of wizard with barely an effort! I couldn't do a thing to stop you either..."

Harry laughed out loud and that was the sound of resignation for every Ministry employee over-hearing them. Harry was amazed how easily a Gryffindor like the Headmaster could get the rumor mill rolling.

* * *

"Come on! Try to be one with the universe, or something! I don't want my glass of water to freeze each time you enter the room! Control, control!"

The dementor simply let out a long breath, his cloak moving under some unreal wind.

"I don't care you never had to turn it off before! You will have to learn how now, and not only you! I don't want dementors making everyone uncomfortable! I gave you all enough people to suck up to have you powered for years! Don't argue! You don't need the extra juice!"

A light sway, another breath.

"What, you think madmen will stop popping up now and then? I told you! There are always the muggle prisons. They can't see you anyway!"

A bowed head and hovering up and down.

"Good boy. Now we'll have to work on a glamour charm so that you can act as my casual bodyguard. It will keep everyone to be distracted by your presence and would provide me with an ace up my sleeve. Get them down to the Department of Mystery for testing," said Harry, thinking about five particular dementors.

The dark creature facing Harry was the leader of all dementor, be them in Britain or elsewhere. He was truly amazed of the little one facing him. After only a month of working in close proximity with them, he managed not only to communicate but to distinguish them. They had no names, but he could send a mental picture of an individual dementor to them.

The door to the Minister's office opened on the sound of arguing. The dark creature turned toward it, took a breath and got out of the office through an air dock. Harry had the idea of having them travel in the hidden conducts, preventing people from always running into them, and had them act like an A/C in summer. Harry knew that if he just left, there was no danger coming.

The door closed on his secretary's nose, leaving him alone in his office with a very familiar blonde.

"Harry James Potter! How dare you?" asked Ginny, stomping around his desk to stare at him, towering over him.

"How dare I do what?" asked Harry, confused.

"A whole month! A whole month I have been waiting for you to call me and all I get is a messenger who gave me back my wand? A freaking courier?"

Harry cringed.

"Ginny, it was a very, very busy month!" he started before predictably being cut off.

"I _know_! You think I would have waited so long with no news at all? Dad told me you have barely got out of your office! Even then, it was to get to a meeting or another and barely eat once a day! You sleep in here! You have been cleaning your school robe, and yourself, with spells for the last four weeks for crying out loud! Are you trying to undo years of corruption in one summer before going back to Hogwarts?"

"Oh yeah, Hogwarts. I knew I was forgetting something," said Harry, snapping his finger. He would soon regret saying that.

Ginny grabbed him by the collar of his robe and pulled his face close to her.

"Don't tell me you would dare to skip the rest of your education at Hogwarts, Mister Potter..."

"I wouldn't dare! I'll just have to...errr...establish a few emergency protocols, schedule reunions and I should manage to drop some more responsibility on Heads of Departments," he quickly made up. He was always good at working under pressure.

Ginny looked at him suspiciously but let him go. She pushed him backward on his chair and sat sideway on his lap. She kissed him lightly before putting her head on his shoulder.

"I missed you, Harry," she whispered.

"I won't lie to you and say I thought only of you, but the last one I had before going to sleep, every night, went to you," replied Harry.

"This is going to be complicated, isn't it?" asked Ginny

"Yes, but you won't have to worry about a job after Hogwarts! I should be able to whip out a Department of Good Look or something to put you as the Head."

Ginny smirked and punched him lightly in the arm.

"Flatterer, but I'll hold you on that job offer. After all, your secretary will probably appreciate an early retirement. How is Sirius' trial coming up?"

"It's going to be ridiculously easy. As he was able to hide his thoughts from the dementors, he's going to be under veritaserum and declared free right after it."

"What does he plan to do after that?" asked Ginny, wondering what goal would be left to Sirius.

"I proposed him to follow the actual Auror course under the guidance of Alastor Moody and a place as Chief investigator in the search for the war criminal Peter Pettigrew. I heard he's getting a head start, working out to get back in shape at Grimmauld Place."

Ginny shook her head, sighing.

"It's never over, is it?"

"Over? Baby, it's just getting interesting!"

THE END


End file.
